


Aftermath

by AislinMarue



Series: Destiel - Castiel/Dean Winchester [47]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2014!verse, 5x04 The End, AU, Coda, Destiel - Freeform, End Verse, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AislinMarue/pseuds/AislinMarue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer is dead. Now Dean must pick up the pieces of his life. </p>
<p>Coda/Fix it fic for 5x04 "The End"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

The kickback of the gun going off in his hand raced all the way up to his shoulder and Dean could only stare at the body that crumpled at his feet just a few steps away.

The pristine white suit was no longer such, laying on the filthy ground as it was, its owner staring sightlessly up at the overcast sky with his eyes glazed over in death.

And yet, for all that he’d come to see the man before him simply as Lucifer instead of Sam, now all he could see was the corpse of his baby brother. Now Sam truly was gone and Dean was alone.

He didn’t even register moving until he was cradling his brother’s body in his arms. Nor did he realize he was crying until one of his tears landed on Sam’s cheek.

Over. It was all over, but had anyone truly emerged victorious? It felt like this had all been a horrible means to an end, saving a world that was already beyond saving. Yet Dean had never stopped trying. Even if it meant losing everything he’d known and loved.

Sam hadn’t deserved to be the devil’s meatsuit, but he also hadn’t deserved to die by his brother’s hand. Which left Dean cradling his brother in his arms, against his chest, whispering “I’m sorry” in a voice that wavered.

He’d sacrificed so much to get to this point. But there was no satisfaction in this. Just a terrible burden replaced by yet another in a seemingly endless line. Even now he knew the corpses of his team were inside the building nearby. He’d killed them just as he’d killed Sam. Knowingly sent them off to their deaths despite his past self’s protests.

He’d truly given up everything for a shot at the devil and he’d taken the shot when the opportunity came. How could he not have after how far he’d come?

But now Risa and the others were dead. Cas…

Thinking of Cas brought on a whole new wave of grief that he felt with his entire being. Cas was a subject he’d avoided for years even with the former angel living in the same camp. He couldn’t stand to see what Cas had become and now he’d killed him. Sent him into a building full of Croats knowing he’d never walk out again.

He’d never told him the truth either. That hurt even worse. 

Dean rested his cheek on his brother’s hair, closing his eyes and giving into his grief. He’d lost his family today. Two men he’d loved more than himself and one died without having any idea. He couldn’t take it back, couldn’t change anything. All he could do was cry as he kneeled on the ground holding his dead brother.

The sound of footsteps crunching over the scattered leaves on the ground drew his attention and he looked up, raising the Colt, his face damp with tears.

But the gun faltered as his eyes landed on the source of those footsteps.

“Cas…?” he gasped, voice thick. 

There he was, broken and bleeding but alive. Wonderfully alive. 

Cas’ gun hung off his shoulder, his right arm cradled against his chest as he approached the soldier slowly, gaze on Dean but also the body he held.

“Dean…” His voice was lower, laced with pain. He made his way to Dean and crouched down beside him on the ground, gaze straying to Sam’s face and the bullet hole in his forehead.

Dean reached out with his free hand, resting it on Cas’ shoulder, noting his eyes were clear not only of the virus but the drugs as well. He hadn’t gotten infected by the Croats and he was clean. The drugs had worn off.

He wanted to speak, but Cas beat him to it.

“Dean, I’m so sorry…” For years it had been “Fearless Leader” or some variation thereof. Never Dean. His name on Cas’ lips served as a balm for his wounded heart and soul.

Dean was gentle as he laid Sam’s body back down on the ground, turning fully to face Cas and look him over. “You okay?”

Cas glanced down. “I broke my arm and I suspect a rib or two.” He was bleeding from a bump on his head as well, but he looked at Dean with concern. “Are you hurt?”

“No…” He didn’t really have a scratch on him. He pulled Cas close, seeing briefly those blue eyes widen with the gesture, but he gave into his own need for once. He needed to feel Cas, whole and alive in his arms, to reassure himself that Cas was still there. That he hadn’t left Dean.

But it was Cas. And despite everything, no matter what stunts Dean pulled, Cas always stayed. Even now, once the shock had worn off, he was wrapping his good arm around Dean, pressing his face into the other man’s neck.

“Fuck, Cas, I thought you were dead….” he breathed, holding Cas while being careful of his arm.

“I’m surprised I’m not to be honest,” Cas murmured and Dean felt his guilt keenly.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I’m so sorry. I never should’ve sent you and the others in there…” Dean shook his head slightly, closing his eyes tightly.

Castiel was shaking his head as well, however. “It needed to be done, Dean. You needed your best chance possible to go after Lucifer. I understand.”

Cas’ understanding was something Dean didn’t feel he would ever deserve, but now he had a chance to prove himself to Cas again. To show him he could be deserving of that understanding and, hopefully, one day his forgiveness.

“We should return to camp,” Cas said quietly, his gaze straying to Sam once more. “I’ll help you bury him.”

Dean’s fingers gripped Cas’ jacket tightly. Even with a broken fucking arm he was offering to help bury Dean’s little brother. Dean truly did feel like one sorry son of a bitch. He didn’t deserve Cas’ devotion at all.

“We need to get that arm looked at. I’ll handle the burial.” Dean straightened and helped Cas to his feet then reached for Sam and hoisted the body up over his shoulders, booking it back to the nearby Jeep.

With Sam’s body stowed in the back, Dean helped Cas into the car then started the drive back to the camp.

From the look on the others’ faces, no one had expected anyone to come back from that mission, but the news that Lucifer was gone lifted spirits and helped soothed the grief of losing Risa and the others.

Cas had his arm set and bound while Dean went to work burying his brother. It was as he was digging the grave that he looked up and saw Cas crouched by Sam’s body, his arm in a makeshift sling and splint. The former angel’s eyes were closed, his hand resting gently against Sam’s face, lips moving with no sound escaping.

It struck Dean then, that Castiel was praying. Cas hadn’t prayed in years and yet now, there he was, praying for Dean’s brother’s soul.

When Cas straightened, their gaze met, but neither said anything as Dean went back to digging. And Cas stayed there the entire time, even after the sky opened up and the rain began to pour, drenching them both in seconds.

The time came to lay his brother to rest and Cas helped Dean as best he could getting Sam into the grave, his brother’s body covered in a soft sheet.

Once there was nothing but a mound of dirt and a wooden cross left, Dean turned to Cas. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, drenched with rain and covered in mud, much like Cas was.

“You don’t have to thank me for this,” Cas said quietly. “He was my friend.”

Dean nodded and looked at his brother’s grave a moment longer before trudging up the muddy path to his cabin, setting the shovel down on the porch.

It was only as he went inside that he realized Cas was right behind him.

“Dean…” he said when Dean noticed he was there, under the awning of the porch yet not quite in the doorway of the cabin itself.

Dean watched him for a moment, then took his good hand and pulled him inside the cabin. Mud be damned he held Cas again, eyes closed, and felt Cas’ arm wrap around him again.

There was an unspoken understanding in the way that they clung to each other in that embrace. Just what they’d stood to lose and what they now had to gain if only both could just move forward, accepting that the other belonged beside them. Yet Dean suspected Cas had understood this long before he ever had. They’d had their sights set on different bigger pictures for so long that it was a relief to finally be on the same page.

“Stay with me,” Dean whispered, but he wasn’t trying to imply anything sexual. He meant the drugs. Stay off the drugs, the booze. He didn’t want to see Cas lose himself in those anymore.

“I’m with you, Dean.” The words were a promise as well as an affirmation and the gentle kiss pressed to the underside of Dean’s jaw was what sealed it.

Now they could hopefully begin to heal, to move forward together. Just as they should have been all along.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed my story! If you did, please consider buying me a ko-fi? My family and I could really use the help.
> 
> ko-fi.com/AislinMarue


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